With a good old fashion, when Christmasse was come,
To call in all his old neighbours with bagpipe and drum,
With good chear enough to furnish every old room,

And old liquor able to make a cat speak, and man dumb;
Like an old courtier, &c.

With an old falconer, huntsman, and a kennel of hounds,
That never hawked nor hunted but in his own grounds,
Who, like a wise man, kept himself within his own bounds,
And when he dyed gave every child a thousand good
pounds;

Like an old courtier, &c.

But to his eldest son his house and land he assign'd,
Charging him in his will to keep the old bountifull mind,
To be good to his old tenants, and to his neighbours be
kind:

But in the ensuing ditty you shall hear how he was inclin❜d ;
Like a young courtier of the king's,

And the king's young courtier.

Like a flourishing young gallant, newly come to his land,
Who keeps a brace of painted madams at his command,
And takes up a thousand pound upon his father's land,
And gets drunk in a tavern, till he can neither go nor
stand;

Like a young courtier, &c.

With a new-fangled lady that is dainty, nice and spare,
Who never knew what belong'd to good housekeeping or

care,

Who buyes gaudy-color'd fans to play with wanton air, And seven or eight different dressings of other womens hair;

Like a young courtier, &c.

With a new-fashion'd hall, built where the old one stood,
Hung round with new pictures that do the poor no good,

With a fine marble chimney wherein burns neither coal nor wood,

And a new smooth shovelboard whereon no victuals ne'er stood;

Like a young courtier, &c.

With a new study, stuft full of pamphlets and plays,
And a new chaplain that swears faster than he prays,

With a new buttery hatch that opens once in four or five days,

And a new French cook to devise fine kickshaws and toys; Like a young courtier, &c.

With a new fashion when Christmas is drawing on,

On a new journey to London straight we all must begone,
And leave none to keep house but our new porter John,
Who relieves the poor with a thump on the back with a
stone;

Like a young courtier, &c.

With a new gentleman-usher, whose carriage is compleat, With a new coachman, footman and pages to carry up the meat,

With a waiting-gentlewoman, whose dressing is very neat, Who, when her lady has din'd, lets the servants not eat ;

Like a young courtier, &c.

With new titles of honour bought with his father's old gold,
For which sundry of his ancestors old manors are sold:
And this is the course most of our new gallants hold,
Which makes that good house-keeping is now grown so cold,
Among the young courtiers of the king,
Or the king's young courtiers.

IX.

Sir John Suckling's Campaigne.

When the Scottish covenanters rose up in arms, and advanced to the English borders in 1639, many of the courtiers complimented the king by raising forces at their own expense. Among these, none were more distinguished than the gallant Sir John Suckling, who raised a troop of horse, so richly accoutred, that it cost him 12,000l. The like expensive equipment of other parts of the army made the king remark, that "the Scots would fight stoutly, if it were but for the Englishmen's fine cloaths.” [Lloyd's Memoirs.] When they came to action, the rugged Scots proved more than a match for the fine showy English: many of whom behaved remarkably ill, and among the rest this splendid troop of Sir John Suckling's.

This humorous pasquil has been generally supposed to have been written by Sir John, as a banter upon himself. Some of his contemporaries, however, attributed it to Sir John Mennis, a wit of those times, among whose poems it is printed in a small poetical miscellany, entitled, "Musarum delicia: or the Muses' recreation, containing several pieces of poetique wit, 2nd edition. By Sir J. M. [Sir John Mennis] and Ja. S. [James Smith.] London. 1656, 12mo." [See Wood's Athenæ, ii. 397, 418.] In that copy is subjoined an additional stanza, which probably was written by this Sir John Mennis, viz.

"But now there is peace, he's return'd to increase

His money, which lately he spent-a;

But his lost honour must lye still in the dust;
At Barwick away it went-a."

SIR John he got him an ambling nag,

To Scotland for to ride-a,

With a hundred horse more, all his own he swore,

To guard him on every side-a.

No errant-knight ever went to fight

With halfe so gay a bravado,

Had you seen but his look, you'ld have sworn on a book,
Hee'ld have conquer'd a whole armado.

The ladies ran all to the windows to see
So gallant and warlike a sight-a,
And as he pass'd, they said with a sigh,
"Sir John, why will you go fight-a?"

5

10

For, till he came there, what had he to fear,

15

Or why should he repent-a?

The king (God bless him!) had singular hopes
Of him and all his troop-a:

The borderers they, as they met him on the way,
For joy did hollow and whoop-a.

20

None lik'd him so well as his own colonell,
Who took him for John de Wert-a;

But when there were shows of gunning and blows,
My gallant was nothing so pert-a.

For when the Scots army came within sight,
And all prepared to fight-a,

He ran to his tent; they ask'd what he meant
He swore he must needs goe sh*te-a.

The colonell sent for him back agen,

To quarter him in the van-a,

But Sir John did swear, he would not come there
To be kill'd the very first man-a.

To cure his fear, he was sent to the reare,
Some ten miles back, and more-a;

Where Sir John did play at trip and away,

And ne'er saw the enemy more-a.

35

V. 22. John de Wert was a German general of great reputation, and the terror of the French in the reign of Louis XIII. Hence his name became proverbial in France, where he was called De Vert.-See Bayle's Dictionary.

X.

To Althea from Prison.

This excellent sonnet, which possessed a high degree of fame among the old Cavaliers, was written by Colonel Richard Lovelace, during his confinement in the Gate-house, Westminster: to which he was committed by the House of Commons, in April, 1612, for presenting a petition from

the county of Kent, requesting them to restore the king to his rights, and to settle the government. See Wood's Athenæ, vol. ii. p. 228, and Lysons' Environs of London, vol. i. p. 109; where may be seen at large the affecting story of this elegant writer, who, after having been distinguished for every gallant and polite accomplishment, the pattern of his own sex, and the darling of the ladies, died in the lowest wretchedness, obscurity, and want, in 1658.

This song is printed from a scarce volume of his poems, entitled Lucasta, 1649, 12mo, collated with a copy in the Editor's folio MS.

WHEN Love with unconfinèd wings
Hovers within my gates,
And my divine Althea brings
To whisper at my grates;
When I lye tangled in her haire
And fetter'd with her eye,

5

The birds that wanton in the aire
Know no such libertye.

When flowing cups run swiftly round
With no allaying Thames,

10

Our carelesse heads with roses crown'd,
Our hearts with loyal flames;

When thirsty griefe in wine we steepe,

When healths and draughts goe free,

Fishes that tipple in the deepe

15

Know no such libertìe.

When, linnet-like confined, I

With shriller note shall sing

The mercye, sweetness, majestye
And glories of my king;

When I shall voyce aloud how good

He is, how great should be,

Th' enlarged windes that curle the flood
Know no such libertìe.

Stone walls doe not a prison make,

Nor iron barres a cage,

Mindes, innocent and quiet, take

That for an hermitage.

Ver. 10, With woe-allaying themes. MS. Thames is here used for water in general.